Harry Potter and the Circle of Silence
by DarkPhoenix011
Summary: The war is becoming more desperate year after year and Harry Potter, apprentice to Dumbledore, must set out on one final mission. To find the Unforgiven One's heir, and to learn to control and wield the power of the most Unforgivable of Unforgivables.
1. Old Friends

AN: I am, again, very sorry for all many previous stories being deleted. I would just have re-uploaded them if my computer didn't break and destroy all my files… It's taken awhile to get all this mess fixed up and I hope you can understand my position. Anyway, I hope this new story will make up for the ones lost.

Harry Potter and the Circle of Silence

Chapter One: Old Friends

August 18th, Potter Manor, Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix

In the darkest, lowest room of Potter Manor a meeting was being held. The moderately sized room was lit only by a single candle, which effectively shrouded the faces of those who did not wish to be seen. By the inadequate candle light, all that _could_ be seen was a large, round table with thirteen chairs spaced evenly. At the northern most part of the table was a chair more impressive than the others, showing off both greater size, and more intricate detail. In this chair sat a twenty five year old man, and happened to be the only member of the thirteen at the table that everyone recognized and knew; the other members did not know each other by face or person; only by voice and given name, but the man was the only one who knew who everyone was.

The man's face, like everyone else's, was shrouded by shadow, but, unlike everyone else, his eyes could be seen plain as day. It was by their bright emerald green color that the other recognized their leader; the one that organized all of this and kept their secret from enemy ears. It was this emerald eyed man that led them in their plans for the future, their plans for battles, and their plans for peace. It was here that the man spoke.

"The Fire's meeting has ended, but mine is only to begin," he whispered to himself. "Aves, I want your report on Ruby," said the man calmly to the room at large.

One of the men, it was impossible to tell where he sat because of a spell making his voice sound everywhere, spoke up next. "Ruby is becoming more and more paranoid, Silver. Although he is starting to trust me more, it will take time until I'm into the Vultures. As of now, I only know of a planned attack on the outskirts of London sometime in the near future. Whatever Ruby is planning, he only tells to Snake Blade."

"Interesting," said Silver. "Feli, what of Sly?"

A female voice came up next, strong but soft. "Sly," she snorted, "is a fool. He relies too much on me. Alongside my regulars he told me to keep a watch on the Hall. I don't know why, but he said that something was of great value in there, and couldn't be passed up."

Silver gave a start of surprise. "Huh… I thought I sensed him hiding something… Butterfly, I want you to tell Blood to not let his guard down. Don't let Sly in."

"I will tell him Silver," said another female, but younger sounding this time. Silver nodded.

"Now, with Sly and Ruby out of the way… Bite, how is the training coming?"

A man sighed in annoyance, "Those _trainees _are really too much of a bother to deal with, Silver. I don't know what could have possessed you to put _me _in charge of the brats, but the training is going along fine… or it would be if those damn children would listen instead of groan…" he muttered.

Silver laughed, "Always good with children, aren't you Bite?" All that answered was a low grumble. "Nevertheless," said Silver, "you must get them going. I'll need them in the coming battles. Besides," he added with a slightly lighter tone, "you were always the _best_ and I would have picked you_ first _to teach students."

Miraculously, Bite did not retort, merely remaining silent. "The rest of you," Silver announced to the table at large, "have your duties. You know what you must do. You are all dismissed."

Silver watched as every member vanished into the darkness, only to return for their next meeting. Predictably, Butterfly remained and approached him.

"Silver… I must ask… When will you let Harry into the Circle?"

Silver sighed and put his face into his hands. "I don't know, Butterfly… I just don't know…" He sounded pained, as if talking about Harry was placing a weight upon his heart. "Harry would pass all our tests, I'm sure… but I… I'm not ready to let him in. Not yet."

It was one of the only times that Butterfly, or any other member of the table if they were here, would see Silver distressed. They all knew who Silver was, even if they were shocked by it at first, and so they all wondered why the Boy-Who-Lived was not among them. It was all very confusing.

"Please, Silver…" said Butterfly pleadingly, "Harry has to be here. You _need _him to be here. I can see you twitch every time his name's brought up! Please Silver, if not for me, do it for you and him."

And with that, Butterfly left the shadows of the room, leaving behind Silver who sighed and remained there for many hours before disappearing into the darkness as well.

August 21st, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office

As Headmaster, and Leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore was a busy man. Even temporarily forsaking his various positions in the Ministry in light of the current war, Dumbledore was even more overworked than normal, yet still managed to put on a smile and calming expression. Inside the man's own mind however, there was turmoil.

He always wondered about when peace would finally be achieved, when Harry would finally end the war. Speaking of Harry…

"Master Dumbledore," said a muscled, raven-black haired man with emerald eyes suddenly as he walked through the office door, "the Ministry has issued Code Eleven. It seems as if Old allies have decided to return."

Dumbledore slowly nodded; a guarded look in his eyes. "Harry, go to the Ministry and talk to the Representative of the Olden Clans. And remember the proper…"

"Yes, yes," Harry interrupted, "I know." He brushed the hair out of his eyes, making the oh-so-famous lightning bolt scar visible again. "I'll bring the Sarcrue with me, if he will."

He then forced a face of immense concentration and faded out of the office. Dumbledore sighed, "Always one to dive headfirst into anything, aren't you my apprentice?"

A silent room answered him. There were no murmurs from the portraits of past Headmasters and Mistress, nor a calming note from Fawkes. Sadly, Voldemort himself destroyed Fawkes with repeated killing curses one night almost a year ago, and no one had seen Dumbledore look quite the same afterward. The death of his dear companion had deeply affected him. So much that Voldemort found a new weapon against the aged Headmaster; not that that's what he was looking for when he killed the phoenix anyway.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly and got up to do his daily pacing around his office. His head was still full of so many questions and so little answers.

August 21st, Ministry of Magic, Atrium

Harry appeared in the middle of the Atrium, wearing his dark blue training robes and cloak, only to be met at the wand points of about ten Aurors. They soon lowered their weapons and nodded at him, once recognizing his robes and realizing who he was. Harry Potter, much to the man's annoyance, had become even more of the hero during the last few years of the war. His feats in battle were legendary among Aurors, old and new, and he was as respected and admired as both Albus Dumbledore and Amos Diggory, the Minister of Magic himself. Harry soon found himself approached immediately by one of the Minister's secretaries.

Harry groaned. Of course it had to be a _female _secretary who found him first. Harry quickly, and discreetly, studied her. She had long, silky dirty blonde hair, tan skin, _really _good looking body… Yeah, it gonna be one of those days… She smiled at him, "Hello Mr. Potter, the Minister and his guest have been waiting for you."

"Thank you… er… Isabel. Would you mind leading me? It's been awhile…"

"Oh, no problem at _all _Mr. Potter!" she said happily, glancing, noticeably, at his muscled body, all the while smirking. "Follow me."

As Isabel lead Harry up the stairs, rather than the elevator. Harry wondered whether she was swinging her hips on purpose or not. He did notice, though, that for someone leading the way, Isabel tended to brush up against him quite a lot. He sighed inwardly.

_Here I am, on important business, and some girl, a fairly attractive one at that a sly part of Harry's mind commented, is trying to get herself close to me. I guess they don't all realize how much of a danger being around me really is… _

"Here it is, Mr. Potter," Isabel said, stopping by a double door lined by gold. "Oh, and by the way," she said before walking off, "here's my address. Stop by sometime…"

She forced a small note into his hand and went back down the stairs, and turned to wink at him suggestively. Harry shook his head, but pocketed the note anyway. He was walking into the Minister of Magic's office, barely taking in the large room and expensive furnishings, when Minister Diggory greeted him.

"Ah, Harry! I wondered if you'd get here. This is Odgren Ickor, Harry," Diggory said, indicating a tall, grim looking man standing by the Minister's mahogany desk. The man nodded slightly and waited for Harry to return the gesture.

Harry walked up to the grim man and put his left hand on the man's left shoulder, making sure to keep eye contact. The Ickor looking pleasantly surprised for a second before giving a small smile and putting his right hand on Harry's right shoulder. Harry smiled and stepped back.

"It… has been… awhile since someone greeted me the proper way, outside my own people," said Ickor, watching Harry closely, "Have you met the Olden before?"

"Yes, in fact, I have. I was three years ago I believe, that I was working along side one of the Yer in the Department of Mysteries. One of the few times I went there was during the "R" Project, and since then Issachu Oblin has been a good friend of mine."

"Ah, I see! Well, you must be Ormu!" said Ickor, suddenly much warmer in the conversation than he was before. "Issachu speaks most highly of you."

"You know him?" Harry asked, astonished. The Olden are not a race that usually deals in friendship or family. Usually the closest you would get to such in the Olden Clans was "ally". Issachu was one of the few who saw things differently.

"I am his _Ishu_… pardon me; his teacher."

"I see… Well, enough pleasantries… Amos," said Harry to the Minister who had been watching the exchange in fascination, "what do you need?"

"Oh, right… Well, Harry, Ickor, now that we've all met each other, let's get down to business," said Diggory, moving toward his desk. "The Dark Lord has gathered more support in France, as well as Russia and we might need to start sending out requests for help to our old allies of the last War. Ickor, here, has come to negotiate his side's support. We've already settled on an agreement. Now, Harry, where do suggest we go?"

Harry thought for a second.

_Where has Dumbledore sent me that we could get support… Hmm… yes, they might…_

"How about the vampire tribes in the western mountains of Russia? When I went there they seemed very interested in the war here, and seemed to lean a bit towards our side. Besides, they seem almost as powerful as those of Romania."

"It's possible, I guess…," said the Minister thoughtfully.

"Also I'm sure the Japanese would help out, as would the Americans and Spanish. And of course all the old alliances could be brought back and such."

"Yes, yes… that it would… Well then Harry, thank you for your suggestions. Oh, Ickor… would you like transport back to you clan?"

"No," he said, "I sense Ormu's master wants a meeting with me."

Harry turned to look at the Olden, surprised that he knew that. Ickor only nodded so Harry said he could come with him.

"Thank you, Minister of Magic, for your time," said Ickor. Diggory said it was a pleasure and Harry laid his hand on Ickor's shoulder, then they vanished.

They appeared a moment later back in the Headmaster's Office to see a pacing Albus Dumbledore, who looked up expectantly. He smiled at Harry and turned to Ickor, doing the same gesture Harry did earlier. Harry bowed to Dumbledore and quietly left the room.

Once beyond the large griffin statue, Harry looked around at the empty stone corridors. Not seeing anyone to talk to, or knowing of anywhere to go or do, Harry shrugged and wandered off toward the direction of his private rooms on the fifth floor. Down two staircases, through a hidden passage behind a large tapestry, and down a long corridor devoid of windows or scenery, and Harry reached his door.

"The One Ring," he said, and the door swung open. Harry stepped into the rooms he had been using for the last five years and looked around, checking for anything moved or misplaced. It was a large room, the walls colored in a mixture of blues and silvers, the three high bookcases off to one side, along with a table and chairs, on the other side of the room was a queen sized bed, blue sheets and blankets, and in the middle, which was separated from the bedroom by a thick stone wall, was the living room.

Dumbledore had offered Harry a much larger, grander living space when he first became his apprentice, all those years ago, but Harry declined. He did not need a house sized place to sleep and study, and neither did he want one. Plain and simple, that's how he liked it.

A small _pop _alerted Harry to the presence of Dobby, his house-elf. Dobby, after much begging and pleading on the elf's part, became Harry's servant, or friend in Harry's opinion, servant in the elf's, about two years ago. Harry told Dobby that he wasn't to be Harry's slave, or become his personal house-elf, and that Dobby should be free and work still at Hogwarts unless Harry needed him. Dobby still praises Harry's 'goodness'.

"Dobby has Harry Potter's dinner ready," said the elf, bowing his head low to the ground, "Is Harry Potter ready to eat yet?"

"Sure Dobby, can you bring it up here? I'm exhausted."

Harry had long given up trying to get Dobby to call him "Harry" only. It took at least a month for Dobby to get used to not calling Harry "master" which Harry outright would not allow, then another three weeks to stop calling Harry "sir". So the elf settled on "Harry Potter" and try as he might, Harry could not get Dobby to call him by his first name only.

"Dobby will gets it from the kitchen, Harry Potter," the small elf said before poppingaway. Harry sat down in his favorite armchair next to the fire and played around with the flames a bit, making them turn from orange, to blue, then violet, and so on until Dobby returned hovering a large tray of food and a potion vial in his hand.

"Professor Dumbledore says that Harry Potter can take his potion tonight. Dobby has brought Harry Potter's potion and dinner!"

"Thanks Dobby," said Harry tiredly, "You can go."

Dobby bowed again and popped back to the kitchens, presumably. Harry looked at the tray of food and groaned. Trust it to Dobby to get enough to feed five people for only one man.

Eating what he could, and placing a preserving charm on the rest, Harry picked the potion vial off the table. It was full of moving purple liquid and Harry recognized it instantly, given the many times he had taken it. The Improved Dreamless Sleep Potion. It was a concoction made specifically for him by Snape, which gave him the rest of a dreamless night, but the dreams he was supposed to have, more specifically the _visions_ he sees from Voldemort's mind, where siphoned directly into the nearest Pensieve. The nearest happened to be sitting on a table next to Harry's bed. He used it often, but made sure never to leave any memories in there. To risky.

Harry dragged himself over to his large blue bed, potion vial in hand. He sat down and gazed at the potion.

"Ah, screw it. I happen to like my dreams…" and he vanished the vial, shrugged off his robe, and underclothes, got under the covers, put his Occulmency barriers up in "Sleep Mode", and went to sleep after about fifteen minutes of silent wakefulness.

AN: How was it? Good? Bad? Let me know in a review and I'll get the next chapter up soon.


	2. Strange Hatred

AN: And here's chapter two!

Shadowed Rains: Thanks for the complements. I intend to have a lot of twists and turns in this story so please try and stay with me for just a little longer?

Belzebu: Yeah, you'll get all your answers soon. And no, the Olden aren't Elves. I toyed around with the idea, but I decided not to. You'll find out more about them later.

Angelkitty77: Thanks!

Chapter Two: Strange Hatred

August 22nd, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry's Rooms

It was a disgruntled Harry Potter that awoke the next day. Maybe it was because of the several visions of the Dark Lord's mind, or several very unwelcome dreams. Or perhaps it was because, as was becoming more and more common, he woke on the cold, hard floor.

"Damn visions, always knocking me outta bed…" he muttered to himself, picking himself off the floor and looking around for his robes and not seeing them. "Dobby, where are you?"

A small _pop _behind him, and Harry turned to see Dobby, with a wide grin plastered on his face, sitting on the bed.

"Dobby had wondered when Harry Potter would wake. Dobby has taken Harry Potter's robes to be cleaned."

Something about the elf's sly tone made Harry's mind work very fast, thinking about why Dobby had a sudden change of character. Then it hit him.

"Dobby," Harry growled, "give me the note back."

Dobby's grin widened, "Harry Potter's note is safe with Dobby! Harry Potter's girlfriend will be disappointed that Harry Potter couldn't meet her last night!"

"Dobby!"

"Yes, Harry Potter? What can Dobby do to serve you?"

Harry quickly swiped his wand out of thin air and said, _"Accio Note!"_

A small piece of rumpled up parchment soared out of Dobby's shorts and into Harry's outstretched hand. Dobby pouted and popped out.

The note said:

_Meet me at my house tonight, if you can. I have to talk to you about something of utmost importance. As soon as this note is destroyed you will have all the information necessary. If anyone else reads this note, all they will see is an invitation to my bed. _

Frowning slightly, Harry concentrated on the note a little harder. Sure enough he could make out a very faint glow of magic attached to it.

"Hmm, I wonder…" Harry muttered. Vanishing his wand, and clutching the note in his hand, Harry strolled out of his rooms, intent on making it to Dumbledore's office. It was on the sixth floor, in a secret passage, when Harry realized what he was missing. His clothes. Harry cursed his own stupidity and quickly conjured himself some, which would stay for at least a few hours.

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," Harry said to the stone griffin that blocked the stairs to the Headmaster's office. The griffin bowed slightly to Harry and turned, allowing the spiraling staircase to begin it ascension. Harry calmly walked up the stairs, note still crushed in his hand.

He knocked politely and let himself in.

"Master Dumbledore," Harry said, sitting in the chair opposite the Headmaster's desk, under the piercing gaze of his mentor. "I want you to read this note."

Dumbledore silently took the crumpled piece of paper, his eyes twinkling as he read it.

"I'm quite certain, Harry," Dumbledore said in amusement, "that your relationships with Ministry employees are none of my concern."

Harry sighed, annoyed, "Look past the fake text, master! I know that you can see through it!"

Dumbledore smiled, "I suggest you meet her tonight, if possible. Find out if what she has is worthwhile information. But I warn you," he said grimly, "a trap could easily revolve around an invitation by a pretty woman."

"I know. The thought also crossed my mind."

They sat in silence for a little, before Dumbledore spoke again.

"The Minister has asked me to delegate the task of meeting the vampires of Russia to you. He also asked to go along with you; you are to leave tomorrow."

Harry was surprised. The Minister of Magic usually did not directly go and try and gain alliance; he would usually send messengers. But no matter…

"Do you trust me to take this assignment, Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore smiled, "I always have trusted you, Harry. You will make a fine Mage one day… Go and meet him and see why he feels it prudent to break the law."

Harry nodded and vanished silently from the room. Dumbledore gazed at the note still in his hand for a second until tossing it into the fireplace, where it was soon was burnt and curling.

August 22nd, Ministry of Magic, Minister's Office

"Yes, Roseanna, I need those files now! I don't care what Fudge told you to do, because _I _am Minister now, and _he_ is hiding somewhere in France!"

A small little lady mumbled a short apology to an enraged Minister and soon scurried off. Diggory gave an exasperated sigh and collapsed back into his chair.

"It seems as if the previous Minister's corruption has yet to be disposed of… wouldn't you agree Harry?"

Harry appeared so suddenly and quietly from the shadows of the room that it was amazing Diggory knew he was there at all. Harry seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"How did you know I was there, Amos?" Harry asked, a little concerned that he forgot something from his training. Diggory laughed.

"Oh, trust me Harry, no one would have seen you… but this office is much more than show and space you know!"

Harry frowned but dismissed his thoughts.

_No… Amos wouldn't know how… _

"Yes, well, I suppose you are here for an explanation of why I want to go with you, then?" Diggory said, not looking up from the various papers on his desk.

"Yes, I am. I may be mistaken… but I was under the assumption that under the Decree for Alliance and Foreign Relations that the Minister of Magic shall not be in direct contact with foreign peoples, creatures, ect, unless said people, creatures, ect agree to meet the Minister in his own Ministry."

Now Diggory did look up, a small bit of guilt in his eyes shown for a second before disappearing. He looked grim. "I don't suppose you know then, right? I told Dumbledore, but he must have his reasons for not relaying the information," he said.

"What information," Harry asked, coming closer to the mahogany desk.

"Information that Cornelius Fudge has somehow made it to the Russian mountains." Harry was about to say otherwise but Diggory interrupted. "Yes, I know the sources all point to France and that I myself said but minutes ago that he is in France, but this is top secret information, Harry. We need to head off all spies. Both his, and the Dark Lord's."

"What about Fudge could be classified as "top secret", Amos? I thought he was only in hiding and that's it."

Diggory shook his head in a sad sort of way, "It seems as if our previous Minister has decided that he didn't want to lose his power." _Oh no… _"He has become a serious threat to our Ministry… in different ways than the Dark Lord would consider. That is all I can say here. Talk to Dumbledore about it later."

Harry nodded, "But you still haven't answered my question, Amos. Why are you tagging along… illegally I might add. And how do you plan on leaving the Ministry undiscovered anyway?"

"It'll all be clear when you speak with Dumbledore," Diggory said firmly and Harry knew that he wouldn't get any further explanation from the man. "I'll meet you tomorrow in Knockturn Alley. We'll leave from there."

Harry nodded, accepting that he would get nothing more from the man, and left the office by way of the door. He needed to take a walk right now.

August 22nd, United States of America, A Grassy Field

Harry appeared in a flash of color and warped space, clutching a brown and red sock in his outstretched hand. He looked around at his surroundings, ready for an attack or a sudden _Avada Kedevara _spell fired his way. But none came, and it was at least ten minutes before anything happened at all. A lone, cloaked figure was making its way through the tall, brown grass. As the person got closer Harry realized it was Isabel, the Minister's secretary.

"Follow me," she whispered, "I don't want to be overheard."

She led him back the way she came, through the increasingly taller grass and the more obvious signs of wildlife. Eventually Harry saw a small house in the distance.

When they reached the steps of the house in question, Harry knew that it was more of an abandoned shed than a house. There was only one room inside, no windows, and no doors other than the one they just walked through. There was dust everywhere on the floor and no furnishings to be seen. Isabel lit her wand as she closed the door and Harry put the necessary privacy spells around the room.

"I've been waiting for you since yesterday, Mr. Potter… this information is something you really need to hear," she said grimly. Harry nodded for her to continue, remaining silent himself.

"As you know, Minister Diggory has done all he can to bring the Ministry back out of the pools of corruption and inability that Fudge had brought it into, since his initiation into office. But there is a secret group of operatives within the Ministry that seek to disrupt it… and it does not consist of a single Death Eater. You've been inside the Dept. of Mysteries, right?"

"A few times, yes," Harry said evenly.

"And you know of the… the Execution Room?"

Harry nodded stiffly.

"Well… I… I know it will seem incredible," she said nervously, "but this group… they have somehow managed to harness a sort of _power _that the Veil contains. I don't know what it is but… in their hands… the Ministry would…"

She, apparently, couldn't say more because she was clutching her throat, as if she was being choked to death. She fell to her knees and Harry was shocked to see that her throat began to grow red and irritated and that her hair was, for some reason, turning grey.

"_Edoceo," _Harry said hastily. A pair of transparent blue hands showed up on Isabel; one clutching her throat, the other her mind. Harry instantly realized what was happening. Even if he didn't have time to ponder how it was possible.

"_Solvo, liberato!" _

The ghostly blue hands vanished and Isabel passed out. He picked up her limp form and concentrated on returning to his rooms. He and Isabel vanished from the one-room shack. Somewhere in the now entirely dark room a male's voice cursed.

August 23rd, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office

"I'm very proud of you, Harry, for responding the way you did yesterday," said a smiling Albus Dumbledore from behind his desk at this early hour in the morning. Harry gave a small smile in return but otherwise remained quiet. "Isabel is still recovering, but alive; thanks to your quick spell work. Once she awakens we will question her.

"Now, about your mission… Harry are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? I know that your experience with vampires has been… ah, not at all a grand time. I could ask Kingsley to go if you…"

"No," Harry interrupted, "I won't hide from the fact anymore. My _experience _with vampires aside, I'm going to take this mission. Besides… wouldn't you agree I'd be much safer now than I was the first time?"

"From the general population, yes, but from Imbeli and her minions, I'd think not. Last time the only reason you got out of there was pure luck and amazing timing on my part. Nevertheless, it is up to you if you decide to confront her and return to the Russian vampires. In truth, I am more concerned for Amos than you."

No matter how much Dumbledore argued, Harry was dead set on visiting the vampires and assured the old Headmaster that he would avoid trouble at all cost while in Arasnas, the home of the Russian mountain vampires. Dumbledore eventually gave in with the promise that Harry would call for his aid if need be. With a final nod to his mentor, Harry disappeared from the office.

August 23rd, Diagon Alley, Apparation Point

Harry made sure that his infamous blue robes were worn before he apparated to Diagon Alley, fully intent on showing that he would not hide from the more questionable customers and sight-seers in Knockturn Alley.

As expected he was on the receiving end of many nods from the scattered Aurors and followed by innumerable whispers of future Hogwarts students and misty eyed women. He ignored them and purposefully strolled into the Alley of aspiring Dark wizards.

Even with the increased Auror activity Knockturn Alley was as a dangerous place to be as always. The green-horn Aurors all silently feared the Alley, as it was a place many of them were sent to guard and it was a place where many of them were pulled into the shadows and beaten or worse. Like Diagon, the people in Knockturn Alley felt the need to stare at Harry as well. Not that the stares were friendly, and some were downright hateful. Smiling slightly, Harry continued down the dark, grimy road, intent on making it to the meeting point the Minister agreed on.

As the large shop, Borgin and Burkes, slide into sight, Harry spotted a tall, cloaked figure make his way inside, after a slight nod to him. Wondering why the Minister of Magic would travel into a shop full of "questionable" items, Harry followed him in.

"Ah, Minister Diggory! Such a pleasure to… You!"

The oily mannered shop keeper, Borgin, froze in place as he spotted a still smiling Harry Potter in his shop. His face contorted with rage as he drew his wand. "It is because of you that my family is dead, Potter! I'll kill you, bastard! _Ava…" _

But before he could finish, he was flung up against the wall where his head was smashed slightly and started to bleed. Harry walked up to the still glaring man and picked up the fallen wand.

"Mr. Borgin, I can assure you that I did not come here to fight," said Harry calmly. "As for the matter of your family… well, they must have known with whom they were dealing with when they attacked me. I did not take kindly to their manners at all, you know."

"Harry, dear man," exclaimed a shocked Minister, "you must lower you wand! I'd rather not have us thrown from Mr. Borgin's shop."

In all honesty, Harry thought that Borgin had a better chance of being thrown from the shop that they did, but he walked over to the door to wait for the Minister to conduct his business anyway.

After a few hushed words between Diggory and Borgin and a few glares from the shop keepers as well, Diggory turned to leave with a slight smile on his face. Deciding not to comment, Harry only frowned and offered the Minister his hand. Once Harry was sure Diggory had a firm grip on his fingers, Harry teleported them out of Borgin's shop.

August 23rd, Somewhere in the Russian Mountains, Arasnas

The snow whipped violently around them as a suddenly _very _cold Minister of Magic and Harry Potter appeared near a cave on a plateau in the mountains. Diggory quickly cast a heating charm before following Harry into the very dark and uninviting-looking cave entrance.

"This place is a little eerie, huh Harry?" Diggory said in a would-be casual voice. Harry only smirked slightly in reply. His movements soon became more flowing and in-tune with the environment, as opposed to the Minister's loud footfalls and occasional tripping. He forced down the urge to turn around and kill the clumsy Minister.

_Damn you Tenna! I hate these urges whenever I'm near them! _

The path continued on for many more miles; Harry being able to see almost perfectly in the pitch-blackness, Diggory only following the sound of Harry's soft breathing. Soon a light appeared in the distance; the end of the long and dark tunnel. Diggory gave an audible sigh of relief. Anything, even vampires, was better than not being able to see!

"Ah! Finally! Don't know how you could see back there, Harry!"

They had reached the end of the tunnel to find a large town down below their position on a moderately high cliff. From what could be seen at this height, it was a beautiful place with blue lights and elegantly designed houses and what appeared to be stores. The town gave off a feeling of happiness and calm… But Harry knew otherwise. Almost directly opposite their spot on the cliff… all the troubles of this small vampire town lay in wait. Harry knew that he would not find a warm welcome in the town.

Almost as soon as the pair reached the bottom of the cliff a group of vampires converged on them with their swords and spears drawn.

"We Snow Vampires will not accept one of _your _blood into our midst," one of them sneered at Harry, who in turn glared at the man. "Speak quickly and tells us of your reasons for trespassing and you may leave unharmed."

Harry fought down the rising hatred that threatened to consume him. _Stay in control Harry… come on… You can do it… _

"I apologize for arriving unannounced, Kinst Bluy. I have come to escort the British Minister of Magic in hopes that we may form an alliance between our two great peoples."

"If you think we would ally ourselves with _your _filth than…!"

Harry interrupted what would have promised to be a long and utterly useless rant, "Not _them, _idiot, the British! _England_ asks for your assistance!"

Bluy studied Harry for a long while, as if looking for some evil motive or sinister plot. Harry didn't really blame him. Tenna had taken care of that!

"Very well," he said, after a long while. "I shall inform our Leader of your request. We shall provide shelter… our Leader will come to you."

Bluy lead them through the wide streets of the town, and they passed many vampires who shocked Diggory when they seemed to show signs of hatred toward Harry. Why, some even threatened him as he passed! Thoroughly concerned by this he questioned Harry about it.

"Do not worry about it, Amos," Harry said stiffly. "It is only a matter of blood and mine doesn't hold well with the Snow Vampires."

"But why would they seem to hate you because of blood? The Potter's is a fine bloodline and…"

But one of the unnamed guards interrupted him, "It is not a matter of the _Potters _blood, Minister of Magic, but a matter of _their _blood. He has the blood of filth in his veins!" he said, glaring at Harry who seemed only too happy to return the glare in triplicate.

"What do you mean, filth! I'll have you know that every drop…"

"Forget it, Amos," Harry said angrily. "No offense, but it is not a matter that you would understand."

Looking extremely indignant over being told he wouldn't understand, Diggory didn't reply and remained in stony silence until the guards show them to a nearby guest house. But before Harry could manage to get in, he was roughly pulled aside by Bluy.

"I'm warning you, bastard. If you try anything out of line while in our presence you shall find the consequences most dire, _Draculian!" _

"You should know by now, Bluy, that _we _seek no fight with you," Harry sneered. "Indeed, we only ask you to join us in what is your birthright and sole purpose in this universe. But, as ever, you decline like fools!"

All he was answered with was silence as Bluy pushed him towards the guest house door. That night, Harry's dreams were riddled with scenes of death and destruction… and they weren't caused by Voldemort.

And, right in the middle of one of those disturbing dreams, ones of Harry's fears were realized.

"I am impressed, Harry," a voice spoke out of the shadows of the town, a voice Harry knew very well. "I had no idea of your inner most desires."

The world around him seemed to freeze and Harry turn around sharply to see the snakelike, smiling form of the most dangerous Dark Lord ever; Lord Voldemort.

"You are not welcome here, Voldemort," he said smoothly. "Get out of my mind now!"

Voldemort's smile only widened and his red eyes flashed dangerously. "With such dreams of death and destruction… you'll forgive me if I wonder why you don't work along side me. The offer still stands, you know. You have become powerful under the old fool, yes, but you could become so much more with me…"

"That doesn't work with me, Voldemort," Harry spat. "I'm fine just where I am."

"Ah, but some weren't," the Dark Lord said triumphantly. An image of Hermione flashed before Harry's eyes. His anger immediately broke through the roof.

"You lured her, you bastard! I still can't believe she accepted but she got what she had coming to her! A cell in Azkaban!"

"You could punish her, Harry," Voldemort said. "You could punish the Mudblood for everything she has done. I wouldn't mind… Her usefulness is now nonexistent, now that she's in Azkaban."

Harry's body started to glow with power and Voldemort's eyes widened with surprise once he realized what Harry was about to attempt. "You can't do it, Potter! You don't have the guts!"

Harry smirked, "Be silent, you bastard! Be silent so I can send you mind straight to the pits of Hell!"

The black power exploded from within Harry and forcefully sent Voldemort careening back into his own mind, where he began to scream in agony. It seemed like hours before Voldemort could say anything.

"Very Dark indeed, Harry," he said proudly. "Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

AN: I decided to end it there because I really want to get this chapter out after such a long wait. Sorry guys I had to finish summer reading and writing.


End file.
